The School of Love

The School of Love 

Your love taught me how to grieve,

While I have been in need, for centuries,

For a woman to make me grieve,

And to cry upon her arms

Like a sparrow...

For a woman to gather my pieces

Like clusters of broken crystal..

Your love taught me, my lady, my worst habits.

It taught me how to foresee my coffee- cup

Thousands of times every night,

To experience the medicine of herbalists, 

And knock on the doors of the fortune tellers.

It taught me to come out of my house,

In order to comb the sidewalks, 

And chase your face in the raindrops, 

In the lights of cars,

In the unknown apparels,

And even to run after your spectrum 

In the posters of advertisements,
And gather millions of stars from your eyes.

؛
Copyright:
 Nizar Qabbani

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